


9/10ths

by keelywolfe



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Angst, Fucking, Infidelity, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus, Underswap Papyrus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 16:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14773320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Possession is nine-tenths of the law:  an expression meaning that ownership is easier to maintain if one has possession of something or difficult to enforce if one does not.





	9/10ths

**Author's Note:**

> Every year at Mediawest Con, I sit in the very back of the art show and write porn. The show takes about two hours and it's a little challenge I run with myself. This story is this year's offering. Enjoy!

* * *

Stretch knew he was here. 

Edge had seen him noticing. The flick of his eye lights in his direction where he was sitting in a booth in the back of the Swap universe's Muffet's, sipping a glass of water. He knew, of course he knew, knew Edge was watching him, listening to him flirt and tease, flashing coquettish smiles at anyone, everyone, from the proprietor of the bar to the lowest drunk sagging down on their table, drooling against the stained wood. 

It had been two weeks since Edge had last seen him. 

Two weeks in Underfell. Sometimes Edge thought he could feel the dust in the air of his universe, taste it, gritty and thick, on the back of his tongue to the point he rarely conjured one. He always took a deep breath of cool, crisp air when he stepped out into Underswap, tasted the clean of it. 

Two weeks and Stretch knew Edge was watching him. It was in his body language, the way he sprawled in his seat at the counter, angled ever so slightly in Edge's direction. In the way he sipped his drink, some godawful brightly colored concoction that was surely disgustingly thick and too-sweet.

It was in his smile, slow and sly, when he stood, whispering something to Muffet that made her roll all her eyes and titter, gesturing towards the back door. Stretch slipped outside, the door swinging shut behind him. 

Muffet saw him, too, and her eyes were serene, uncurious and unmoved to see Edge following Stretch out into the cold night. It took him a moment to adjust to the darkness, Snowdin's night was only broken by the lights from Muffet's windows pouring out from the other side of the building. Here in the back there were no windows, no light but the cherry-red glow of a cigarette leading Edge through the darkness. 

The space between the buildings was narrow and claustrophobic, dominated with covered trash cans and the snowy ground was dotted with cigarette butts. Stretch was standing alone, cigarette in hand and the glitter of his eye lights following Edge as he walked closer. 

He stopped in front of Stretch, arms crossed over his chest. "You seemed popular tonight."

"yeah? usually am, " Stretch exhaled a sweet-smelling cloud of smoke, smirking. "i'm a popular kind of guy. you got a problem with that?"

Edge made a sound like a laugh, bitter and low. Grabbed Stretch by the front of his sweatshirt and swung him around, shoving him hard against the side of the building and pushing his own body into Stretch's. His cigarette fell, dousing in the snow. Edge slammed their mouths together, hard enough that their teeth clacked painfully. 

Stretch never even flinched, pressed back into it, grabbing fistfuls of Edge's shirt. His anger was inarticulate, snarling out of him between kisses and Stretch only laughed into his mouth, grinding his hips against Edge's pelvis. Edge drove his tongue against Stretch's as if he could steal that laughter away, choke him with need and desire and for once, _shut him up._

"fuck, edge," Stretch groaned against his mouth, shaky and hoarse. He yelped when Edge ground his cock against him, more assault than embrace, tearing loose whatever else he'd meant to say in a wordless cry. 

"Mine," Edge growled to him. Even more than the physical pleasure of it was the satisfaction it brought to silence him for once; a brief, borrowed moment that was nothing but frantic breathing and whimpers. 

Stretch didn't answer, only pulled him in hard, wrapped a leg around the back of his knees and held him in tight before whispering to him, "i'm not, not even a little…fuck, ahhh! did you think i waited? think i haven't been on my knees for anyone i want? fuck, you've been gone too long, fuck, fu—"

His words were muffled by Edge's hand over his mouth, "Shut up."

Stretch's eye lights danced above Edge's hand, mocking and amused. not yours, they said, not yours.

His rage pulled into a fine point, razor-focused. He stepped back enough to yank Stretch away from the wall, whirling him around only to shove him back against it, hard enough to feel his breath leave him in a pained whuff. He tried to brace himself on his arms as Edge dug a hand into the front of his pants, sliding his gloved fingers between his legs. Stretch shuddered, falling forward against the icy brick. 

"oh, oh...oh fuck," Stretch hissed, hips flinching back as Edge pressed hard against the wetness of cunt, slicking a finger between his pussy lips. 

"Not mine?" he growled. It was unsteadier than he would have liked, fractured and raw. He pushed another finger into Stretch, wetness soaking through his glove. "This thinks you are."

"anyone can get me wet," Stretch rasped out. Edge worked a thumb against his clit, tiny precise circles. "anyone who…ah, fuck!...ah…ah…any—anyone who tries."

"Who tried," Edge could taste the heat of his own magic, hate in his soul and murder on his mind. 

Stretch laughed unsteadily. "what, am I fucking stupid? not…not…telling…ohhhh…" He quivered, hips hitching back and the walls of his cunt tighten around his fingers. He pulled them free just as he started to come, leaving Stretch rasping out curses, quivering in the ruin of his orgasm.

"You fuck-er!" Stretch's voice broke in the middle as Edge dragged his shorts down to his knees, leaving his cunt exposed to the air and the night. He pushed a boot between Stretch's feet, kicking them further apart.

His zipper sounded loud between them and Edge snugged his cock against Stretch's cunt, just barely inside. Leaning into him until they were pressed together from ankles to chest, the smoggy magical heat of their bodies together keeping the cold air around them at bay. 

"Mine," Edge told him, low and filthy, and pushed into him. Stretch only shuddered silently, let Edge drag his hips back as he slid in to the hilt. There was no time to adjust before he pulled out and back in, fucking him brutally hard, forcing Stretch up on to his toes as he gasped out little whimpers, his fingers clawing frantically at brick and mortar.

Always, always tight, slippery as sin, and the hot clench of him was like a cruel fist wrapped in wet velvet. Edge wrapped an arm around his pelvis, tilting it up and it let him sink in deeper, grunting as he drove in harder. He wanted Stretch to feel the ache of this tomorrow deep in his cunt, wanted him to wince when he sat down at that fucking counter, wanted everyone who saw him to know _someone_ had managed to touch him. 

He licked at the back of Stretch's neck, tasted the sweet-salt of his sweat, felt the rumble of his whimpers. Another hard thrust, another, and Stretch wobbled on his toes, his cunt tightening around him and Edge slid his hand back between his legs, circling his clit roughly with two fingers. Stretch jerked like he'd been struck, like pleasure was a blow, and his moan was guttural and pained, shaking his way through his orgasm. Only to whimper louder when Edge didn't stop, kept rubbing, ignoring Stretch's hands frantically pulling on his wrist. The ripple of his cunt went tighter even as Stretch sagged against the wall, Edge's arm around him holding him up as he fucked him through it. 

"ohhh…ohh don't…" Stretch begged, "i can't…i can't…uuuughh!" He convulsed again, weakly, a little spurt of wetness falling over Edge's fingers. Edge pushed in deep and held, circling his pelvis in a slow, filthy grind. He heard the desperate catch of his own breathing as he came so hard he felt the pressure of it in his skull, crimson light flooding his vision. Too much, too, too much, and Stretch was a beautiful, whimpering mess against him, Edge's come adding another layer of slickness to his cunt. 

His vision hazed, graying at the periphery, and Edge only dimly felt his knees give, brick rough against the back of his shirt as he managed to stagger enough to lean against the wall. 

He opened his eyes at the rasp of a lighter. Stretch was still standing, leaning against the wall next to him with a cigarette in his mouth. He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke trickle lazily from his nasal aperture. 

"You're mine," Edge whispered. He could feel the cold snow seeping wetly through his trousers, chilling his bones. 

"Oh, sweetheart," Stretch sighed. He reached over and patted Edge on the skull. His hand was cold and his fingertips were scratched, a bead of marrow oozing from one. "i can't be, i won't be. not the way you want. sorry, kiddo."

Edge grabbed his hand and kissed it. Pressed his tongue against that droplet of marrow and focused his magic there. Stretch held still and let him heal the little wound. He pressed a gentle, healing kiss to each fingertip, then his knuckles. Then Edge let him go.

"Good thing I love you, anyway," Edge said roughly. 

That made Stretch smile. "yeah, i know. love you, too," He took another long drag, puffed out a ring of smoke, "you coming home with me tonight?"

"Do you want me to?"

Stretch sighed irritably. "i asked, didn't i? come on."

Edge pushed up to his feet and followed him. 

In the brief glow from Muffet's windows, Edge could see crimson slicking a trail down Stretch's leg, a rivulet of his own magic staining his bones. Marking him. 

It would last as long as it took Stretch to shower and no longer. Behind Stretch's back, he lifted a gloved hand to his mouth and licked the slickness from his fingers, the sweet-sour taste of it flooding his senses. Better than gritty dust, better than even clean crisp air. 

_Mine_ , Edge whispered in his own mind, silent lies that he didn't believe. 

_Mine_. 

-fin


End file.
